


Photo Shoot

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Inspired by Photography, M/M, Masturbation, Photo Shoots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul, Richard and a Kerrang! photo shoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photo Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an old Kerrang! photo-shoot and this picture in particular.
> 
> [](http://s1013.photobucket.com/user/Reesh-P-H/media/tumblr_n2vnsu1r7X1twrfglo2_500_zps6527fee8.jpg.html)

Paul sank down in his seat, relief flooding his body at the thought of finally being alone at last. That day’s photo shoot had been fun, yet oddly arduous when held in comparison to other shoots. Costume difficulties and mishaps had abounded, and Paul still didn’t know what to think of Schneider’s long leather skirt. Still, at least the look had suited him; Paul doubted the same could have been said if it had have been himself in the drummer’s place. Paul hadn’t minded wearing the leather catsuit he‘d been assigned, despite the fact that it nipped and chafed in awkward places, and rubbed at still others until he felt as though he sported an almost permanent erection. The whip he’d carried added to his growing arousal, long leather accessory a welcome weight in his hands. That whip had sparked some fantasies he hadn’t previously known he’d had, and those fantasies had all but proved a distraction throughout the shoot. 

Paul shifted in his seat and the leather creaked against him, emitting pleasant squeaks that seemed in direct counterpoint to the creaks the hard chair he sat upon gave; the noise, so soft, filled the otherwise silent room. He thought of the outfit that Richard had worn, naked but for his underwear and the British flag that had been wrapped coquettishly about his waist. A black gag had completed the outfit; even though the gag had sealed Richard’s mouth shut and prevented him from speaking, still the other man’s thoughts were transmitted by the heat in his gaze whenever he looked upon Paul, coupled with the odd, meaningful wink and the stares that lingered too long upon Paul's face. 

Paul's thoughts turned to their solo shoot, with Richard on hands and knees, Paul lounging on a chair nearby, whip curled across his lap in a long and heavy line. He remembered again the way that Richard’s ass had looked beneath the flag, thin cotton doing little to hide the dips and curves of the other man’s body that Paul knew so well. 

Paul shifted against his seat again, the beginnings of an erection pushing against the front of his catsuit. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on thoughts of the strong set of the other man’s body, of how Richard had jokingly posed in front of him, and had rubbed his crotch against Paul’s arm while he still sat motionless. Paul had laughed at the time and had mimed sucking Richard off, all the while wishing that the actions were real instead of simulated. 

Richard’s eyes had been blown after he’d partially stumbled away, arousal clear in the set of his body and his gaze, an arousal that didn’t truly dissipate between them. That solo shoot had solidified that tension, crystallized it into a pure form until Paul thought he was going to crazy if he didn't find absolution soon. Richard had retreated pretty quickly once time had temporarily been called upon the shoot and Paul had been unable to find him again; instead, he found himself alone in his dressing room, half-hard and frustrated.

He sighed, shoulders rising and falling with that one loud, frustrated exhalation, and decided to just take himself in hand - literally. He stood and awkwardly unzipped himself, teeth of the zip making loud noises in the quiet room. He shrugged out of the catsuit, and allowed the top half to dangle by his legs, before he sat down again, wooden back of the chair hard and unforgiving against his back. He slid his partial erection out of his underwear, thoughts lingering upon memories of Richard kneeling before him; he found himself fantasizing about the entire thing unfolding in the privacy of their bedroom, Richard tied and bound and gagged, laying wide open just for him. Paul felt the imagined lashes of his whip against Richard’s body, imagined the way that Richard’s body would arch up off the bed, eyes closed, face pleasure-wracked and open, muffled noises spilling forth from behind the gag. 

He started stroking himself, breath measured and even at first, breath which grew ever more erratic as his fantasies played out in his mind’s eye. Paul’s hand moved faster, a loud moan escaping past parted lips as he worked faster, cock fully hard and aching. He threw his head back, and worked harder still, chair creaking beneath him and he came, hips lifting from the seat with the force of his release, Richard’s name heavy upon his lips. 

He blinked back into reality slowly, consciousness moving past the fog of his own climax, chest rising and falling erratically as he relearned how to breathe. A sudden noise from nearby caused him to jerk away and cover himself with both hands, before his gaze met that of Richard’s in the dressing room’s sole mirror. Paul relaxed yet only slightly; that he’d been caught pleasuring himself by the very man he’d been fantasizing about inexplicably embarrassed him, despite the fact that they’d been in a relationship for years and as such, had seen, and done, far worse to each other. 

“Why can’t you knock?” Paul asked, a little more sharply than he’d intended.

“I did, but you didn’t answer; not properly anyway. I heard my name, so thought it was okay to come in,” Richard said, with a shrug, grin brightening his face for just one brief and shining moment. 

“Jesus, Reesh,” Paul said, as he partially turned away, still trying to cover the effects of his orgasm from Richard’s gaze. 

It didn’t stop Richard from coming further into the room; Paul was glad that the other man had already thought to close the door behind him, therefore hiding Paul’s most private moment from the view of all others potentially loitering outside. He felt the warmth of Richard’s body against him, coupled with the other man’s partial erection pressing against his shoulder. 

“If I’d have known that you were as turned on by all of this as I was, I would have waited,” Richard murmured, as he rested one hand against the nape of Paul’s neck. 

“You were - oh,” and Paul cut himself off.

It suddenly made sense as to why Richard had so conveniently disappeared; that he’d also gone to work off his own frustrations was now obvious to Paul. He suddenly felt foolish for not realizing it before, yet his own lustful thoughts had kept clear thinking and reason from his mind. 

“There’s always later,” Richard said, as Paul turned a hungry gaze up to his. “When we’re alone.”

“That - that sounds good, actually” Paul replied, clearing his suddenly too dry throat at that. “The flag’s not necessary.”

“But the gag is?” Richard asked, eyebrow rising as he guessed at Paul‘s innermost thoughts.

Paul nodded, a little too enthusiastically for his own liking, yet he couldn’t talk; he didn’t trust his own voice to remain steady. Richard grinned again, yet there was a darkness to his gaze, a hungry look that held much more promise than words would have done. Pal leant forward, rested his forehead against Richard’s still bare abdomen and exhaled. He felt Richard twitch a little beneath him, as though his breath had tickled the other man’s exposed skin; Paul smiled and pressed a kiss above Richard’s navel. 

“Just count yourself lucky that it was me who came in and not someone else. Like Till,” Richard finally said, as he traced possessive patterns across Paul’s exposed shoulders. “Which reminds, we’re due back soon. He wants to take more photos - some of those we took earlier weren't good enough, apparently.”

Paul leant back in sudden embarrassed horror, before he gestured down at the mess he’d made of himself.

“How the hell do you clean this shit off of leather?” he asked. 

Richard's only response was to laugh, head tilted back with the force of his own merriment.


End file.
